


Where The Light Isn't // TomTord

by ultilitarianism (orphan_account)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Edd - Freeform, Eddsworld - Freeform, Fanfiction, Gay, Ghost Tord, M/M, Matt - Freeform, Youtube Series, also this book is old;;; my writing is way better now, ghost - Freeform, m/m - Freeform, not exactly a character death so..., tom - Freeform, tomtord - Freeform, tord - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-01-20 01:48:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12422514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ultilitarianism
Summary: |COMPLETE|“Tord,” He huffed. “He’s so…”Tom looked up, feeling a swish of wind blow on him. Tord was there. Staring at Tom with his dull red-brown eyes. The man froze and stopped breathing. They looked at each other for a minute before Tord floated away. Shivering, Tom sprinted down the hallway and locked himself in his room. He panted and leaned against the inside of the door. Glancing around the room, he scanned the piles of papers and clothes for his cutting knife. Tom had catched a glint of metal when he imagined Tord’s eyes in his head, staring into his soul. Shaking, Tom stumbled onto the bed and closed his eyes.He gave into sleep and shut down for the day.





	1. Chapter 1

1

I tumbled down the stairs, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as the sun shone through the windows. I walked into the kitchen, squinting as I reached to make a glass of milk. A figure stood, a couple feet away, their face blocked by sunshine. I rubbed my eyes and looked again, the milk gallon in my hand.  
The figure was masculine, but they were incredibly tall. I glanced at the feet, there weren’t any. I blinked. I saw, full in focus, that it was Tord, who should have been long dead, standing in front of me like a ghost. Hovering in his half transparent presence.  
I did the only thing I could think of. I screamed.

 

Three creepy weeks later, Tom was sitting on the couch, watching an old sitcom, as ghost Tord floated beside him. He levitated three inches above the couch, silently watching. His eyes were misty, so Tom wasn’t sure whether or not he was even paying attention. He changed the channel experimentally, watching the ghost. He turned to the man, staring intently into Tom’s eyes.  
“Okay, okay,” Tom said, turning back to the sitcom. “Here. Happy?”  
He didn’t say anything, he just went back to watching. He shook from side to side gracefully. Tom sighed and got up from the couch. Edd was warming frozen waffles in the microwave as Matt was watching him in his hand mirror when Tom walked in. Matt glanced at him and pretended to fix his hair. Edd turned and smiled through the brown hair in his face. Tom held back a grin and let a small frown form on his lips as he spoke.  
“Hey. Tord’s hogging the TV.”  
Edd’s smile faltered at the sound of the dead man’s name. Matt looked away, off into space. An uncomfortable silence arose as Edd hesitated to speak. He looked away as the words filled the quiet around them.  
“Just do something else then.”  
Countless days, countless days of that. Edd telling Tom to “just do something else then” whenever Tord did something Tom wanted to. Tom couldn’t hate him, since he did kill the man. But he felt that the fact that he won’t, or can’t, talk is enough for an punishment. Tom trudged up the stairs, muttering as he clunked his sneakers on the carpet.  
“Tord,” He huffed. “He’s so…”  
Tom looked up, feeling a swish of wind blow on him. Tord was there. Staring at Tom with his dull red-brown eyes. The man froze and stopped breathing. They looked at each other for a minute before Tord floated away. Shivering, Tom sprinted down the hallway and locked himself in his room. He panted and leaned against the inside of the door. Glancing around the room, he scanned the piles of papers and clothes for his cutting knife. Tom had catched a glint of metal when he imagined Tord’s eyes in his head, staring into his soul. Shaking, Tom stumbled onto the bed and closed his eyes.  
He gave into sleep and shut down for the day.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom woke up in yesterday’s clothes.  
His stomach grumbled from skipping dinner last night, a dull pain in his abdomen. Tord’s eyes were still fresh in Tom’s mind as he fell off the mattress, rolling into the floor. Tom sighed and grumbled toward the bathroom, rubbing his eyes as he washed his face. He skipped a shower and skipped down the stairs, trying to wake himself up. He peeked around the staircase corner, Tom’s black eyes searching for the ghost. Tord was absent. The only person downstairs was Matt, snuggled in a blanket, cup of tea in both hands. Tom sighed and jumped the final two steps. Matt looked up from his tea and smiled at him. The look of relief was present in his eyes. Tom almost mistook him for a girl, Matt hadn’t gotten his hair cut in a while and most of it was under the blanket. Shaking the thought out of his head, Tom walked in the kitchen and started the kettle. Matt shifted lower into the couch, a snuffling sound catching Tom’s ears. He grimaced and glanced at the kettle. It was done. Tom put a teabag in a cup and poured in the water. Plopping in one spoon of sugar, Tom heaved himself up on the counter. He swung his legs a bit and hung into the granite with one hand, sipping his drink. Tom closed his eyes as a female character in the TV was sobbing.  
Tom didn’t know how long he was sitting there because when he opened his eyes again, the sun was out and Matt was gone. He sighed and stared at his empty cup longingly. He pushed it towards the sink, shutting his eyes again as the air shifted by Tom softly.  
“Hi Tord.”  
He could feel the ghost’s presence beside him. Tom swung his legs once before stopping, cursing under his breath. Tom glanced up at him, opening his eyes for a moment. His misty gaze was elsewhere. He floated above the counter by a couple inches, his legs crisscrossed. Tom breathed in heavily and let it out tiredly. Today already felt like a long day to him.  
He jumped off the counter after a few minutes of silence. Looking around, Tom saw that Matt had disappeared at some point. Tord ‘s head shifted in my direction as I jumped the stairs two at a time. Grabbing his laptop, he started browsing the internet.  
I planned on doing nothing today, but I may as well do something beneficial, he thought to himself. Tom typed in “horror stories” on a site called Archive of Our Own. He scrolled through the first couple titles and clicked on one by random.  
This’ll be interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

Matt woke up that morning with a dark feeling in his chest.  
The sun wasn’t even up yet. He grimaced. Matt stumbled out of bed, briefly stopping by the bathroom to splash water on his face, and almost fell down the stairs. He hastily put hot water and a teabag in a cup, forgetting sugar but drank it anyway. He grabbed a blanket from a nearby closet and turned the TV on. Matt picked a Spanish drama with subtitles and put the volume on low, knowing that everyone else was asleep. He had been there for a half-hour before Tom came zombie-walking down the stairs, a tired look in his solid black eyes. Matt returned to watching my show, though he had been lost in thought and hadn’t been watching at all. He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. Matt snuck a look at Tom after a few minutes, watching as he sat on the swung his legs sloppily. He caught a glimpse of Tord, shivering as his cold empty gaze hovered on him for a moment. His eyes seemed to be a solid red as he stared into Matt’s soul. He got up and held the blanket to his chest, setting his cup on the counter as he passed. Matt avoided Tord’s eyes as he sped up the stairs. He passed my room and knocked on Edd’s door softly. Edd opened after a few rustling sounds. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.  
“Matt, it’s 5 am. Go back to sleep.”  
The younger man shifted his weight from one foot to another. “I was actually hoping I could sleep with you for a bit.”  
Matt’s voice cracked as his eyes fell downward. Edd’s frown disappeared and he opened the door more.  
“Fine.”

 

Tord stayed, hovering above the counter for a good hour before moving.  
He rose slowly, as if he were sleepwalking, and flew out a window. He grinned, floating through the roof and stopping a foot above it. He stilled as a chilly morning breeze drifted past, blowing his ghostly devil’s hair out of place. Relaxing, he let out a silent sigh and stayed for the rest of the day, watching the sun creep lazily across the sky.  
He watched for hours, moving only after the sun had reached the west horizon. He floated back down, finding Matt in the kitchen as Edd stood by the stovetop, cooking something.  
Matt glanced up from his phone, staring at Edd with deep blue eyes as he stirred the pot. The ginger looked at the other man with fiery intensity.  
“Edd,” He started, letting his phone tilt down a bit. “Why do you think Tord came back?”  
Edd lowered his eyes as the words hung in the empty silence. Matt bit his tongue as the said dead man watched from beyond, listening in intently. Edd stopped stirring and turned his head slowly to the younger man, clenching the countertop tightly.  
“I really don’t know.” Matt slid his phone into his back pocket and ran a hand through his orange hair. Edd turned back to his cooking, and the kitchen rested in tranquility, despite the invisible tension.  
Tord slipped away noiselessly. He could feel Tom’s presence upstairs, so up he went.  
He found the male sitting on his bed, strumming his guitar. Tord unsuccessfully searched his foggy thoughts for the name, but couldn’t recall it. He floated through the walls until he was behind Tom, then drifted towards the bed, hovering above it horizontally.  
Tom scooted over, making room for the ghost. Tord floated next to him, watching as the man’s fingers stroked the strings lightly. The ghost levitated closer, watching over Tom’s shoulder. Tom let out a breath, muttering as the dim figure peered over his shoulder.  
“What do you want?”  
The ghost did nothing in response, only swaying slightly to the silent atmosphere of the room. Tom moved to the other end of the bed, turning his head away from Tord. The ghost watched carefully, not wanting to aggravate the living man. They sat like that for hours, the ghost miles away within his head, the man strumming his instrument, glancing every now and then at Tord. Tom sighed when he looked at the clock.  
“Shit, it’s 11:00. Tord,” the ghost looked up hopefully. “I gotta sleep.”  
He floated away from the bed, watching as the mortal turned off the lights and slid off his shirt. Tord moved his gaze away from the man’s chest, tensing as he tried to focus on other things. He shut his eyes closed, though they only provided a brief distraction as Tom spoke after a moment.  
“Wow. I didn’t know ghosts could get tired.”  
He opened his eyes to meet Tom’s own at the sound of his voice. His mouth gaped open a bit, wide, undead eyes staring at him. Tom smirked, and slipped under the covers. Tord hesitantly drifted towards the bed, letting his transparent form “sit” on the mattress. He watched intently as Tom’s breathing evened and he eventually fell asleep, murmuring unknown names as he slipped in and out of a deep sleep. Tord felt all of this, feeling the stillness of the room, hating the fact that he couldn’t sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Tom’s day began with sunshine glaring in his eyes.  
He frowned instantly and rubbed his jaw. A sharp pain ran through his body. He could feel his skin crawling. It had nothing to do with the morning, or the ghost watching him intently from the other side of the bed, staring with wide eyes.  
His knife called out to him, he felt his mind telling him to grab it, and tear apart his skin like lunch meat. He was torn between both the butcher and the cow, teetering to and from both sides. He glanced at Tord, as if the ghost could understand his pain. He’d been dead for almost a year, he’d probably forgotten the feeling of pain. Hesitantly, he ignored the aching for bloodspill and got up from the mattress, heading toward the bathroom. He could hear the swooshing of the air as Tord followed him. He stood in front of the mirror, shutting the door behind him with his foot. Tord floated right through the door, a nonchalant expression on his face. Tom looked at his black pupils, sighing. He splashed water on his face, leaning down on the counter. He craned his neck to glance at the reflective glass. The ghost was staring at him, gazing almost fondly at Tom. He shivered under Tord’s gaze, standing abruptly. The fond look was swept off the ghost’s face as he straightened his back. He walked out swiftly, stopping by his bedroom briefly to grab a hoodie. Poking his head into the hallway, he checked to see who was up. No one else was awake, most likely because it was 8:00 am on a Saturday. Stepping quietly, Tom speed walked through the hallway. Tord followed him in the corridor, through the loft, down the stairs, and out the front door. The sunlight was far brighter than in Tom’s bedroom. The pair walked down the driveway, Tom squinting as he approached the mailbox. He opened it, accidentally letting several envelopes fall out. Tord looked on as the man picked up the mail, gripping it in his hands tightly. Spontaneously, Tom thought of when Tord had come back. Painful memories of the fight resonated in his mind. He shook the thoughts away and walked back up the driveway, holding the mail in one hand, clenching the other. Tord followed silently, monotonously trailing behind him. He opened the door and closed it behind him, not waiting for the ghost to even near the door. He stomped up the stairs, taking them two at a time.  
He sat on the mattress, catching his breath as if he had just finished a marathon. Tord hovered inches away, but Tom still felt alone. Flashbacks echoed through his head, the event playing over and over again. Falling into the ground, hearing God's voice from inside the robot, they all were just as clear as they were when they happened. He bit his tongue and started going through the mail. The ghost levitated beside him as he went through each envelope. The room was at peace until Tom reached the last letter. He held it in his hands as he read the address. Somewhere from Norway.  
Tord stiffened, stilling completely. Tom looked at him expectantly, but Tord’s face said nothing. They watched attentively as Tom ripped it open. He turned it to pull out its contents, finding two papers. The first one was from Paul, one of Todd's old coworkers and Edd’s childhood friend. It read,

Tom,  
The following letter is from Tord. Beware, the things he wrote are inaccurate, as he’s going crazy lately. Please, don’t respond to us. His passing hit us hard, and we understand your aggression. We hope you understand why we are only sending these now.  
Our Commiseration,  
Paul  
He looked at Tord again. The ghost’s face was perplexed, face scrunched up as he was stock still. The silence of the room hung heavily as Tom set down Paul’s letter and reached into the envelope for the other. He held his breath as he unfolded the paper, feeling the undead presence next to him.  
The letter opened with a simple line.  
Dear Tom,


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling good about putting another chapter up. Hehe.

Tom hesitated to continue.  
The letter was short, some of it in Norwegian. Tord moved for the first time that hour, watching nervously. The ghost had a shaky feeling to him, vibrating in the air. Tom shivered involuntarily. The letter went on.

The world is a cruel place, Tom.  
You cannot, even if you could, you wouldn’t, forgive me. I did a terrible thing.  
And now, I sit in this asylum, writing pointless letters to the person who hates me most. I can’t find a reason as to why I do this, but I am here nonetheless. I am sorry, but I can’t handle forgiveness. I live off bad things, Tom. I’m a broken, shattered, desperate attempt at human. I don’t even deserve to live.  
You and the gang did nothing to deserve this, and for that I am glad that I am far away. Yet I still feel close, like you are all sitting next to me in this dark room, giving me comfort and joy. None of which I have earned.  
Please come. Tell me how much you hate me. I’m dying to know. Every thought revolves around you, and the look on your face when I knocked you down with that robot. Paul and Patryk have lock me in here in result, and I have been in solitude since. I need someone to tell me how bad I am, all I have are me and my thoughts. My dark, empty thoughts. The world is a cruel place.  
My sincerest wishes,  
Tord

Tom blinked. Tord hovered beside him, moving up and down on an invisible wave. They sat in silence for a minute before Tom spoke.  
“We’re going to Norway, then.”

Edd gaped at Tom, dropping his fork. “You’re doing what?”  
Matt’s face saddened. “I don’t want you to leave.”  
Edd shook his head in disbelief. “Why?”  
Tom looked at them both, a cloudy gaze in his eyes. “I just have to.”  
Edd stared at him quizzically. Matt pouted, fiddling with his spaghetti. Tom sighed and looked away. Tord watched from a distance, floating up and down to an unheard tune. Matt glanced at the ghost before casting his eyes downward to his plate. Edd breathed in slowly.  
“Go ahead.”  
Tom gaped at the brunette. “Okay then.”

Tord hovered beside Tom, watching as the man packed his suitcase. He turned to look at Tord. Tom smiled weakly as he stuffed the luggage bag to the max, struggling to close it when he finished. Tord moved closer, watching as he lifted the suitcase off the bed and towards the corner of the room. Tom huffed and put his hands on his knees.  
“So, we’re really doing this, huh?”  
Tom looked at Tord, laughing as he sat down on the mattress. Tord hovered next to him, swaying back and forth. The ghost nodded his head, watching Tom as he hummed a tune to himself. They sat for hours, comfy silence filling their time. Tom fell asleep after dusk, as he had been up all day.


	6. Chapter 6

Tom stepped into the airport, watching as dozens of suitcases were scattered among the large mass of people.  
Tord followed silently behind Tom, his glassy eyes scanning the crowd. Tom dragged his suitcase as he found a way through the crowd. The ghost slid through the mass like butter and knife, flying effortlessly as if the dozens of people weren’t there at all. Tom didn’t bother to look behind him as he approached the check in station.

He shook slightly as he stepped through the scanner. It beeped and the officer nodded at her colleague. He was about to reach from his stuff when an officer put a hand on his shoulder.  
“Sir, may I speak with you for a moment?” She smiled weakly at him, stress lines streaking her younger face. Tom looked at her confusingly and lowered his arm.  
The officer led him to a small room after assuring that his stuff would be safe. She opened a door, pulling out a key so fast that Tom hadn’t seen it. Holding the door open, she let him and herself in, closing it behind them. Tom could feel Tord’s invisible presence following, a slight breeze to the air. He took a seat, eyes frantically moving as the officer sat at a chair across a small black table. She tapped her fingers on the table slowly, watching him shiver under her gaze. Tord swayed beside him, unseen to the officer.  
“So”, she read a card, eying it carefully as her other hand continued tapping. “Thomas… Ridgewell?”.  
He nodded, feeling sweat starting to form. A security camera moved in the corner. She continued, staring at him. “Do you own any firearms?”  
He froze at her question, stuttering his answer. “Y-yes, but not here. I, uh, left them at home.”  
“Any ammunition?” Tom shook his head.  
“Do you own contacts?”  
Tom nodded. “I’m wearing them right now. Do you… do you want me to take them out?”  
The officer shook her head. “No, that will be all.”  
“Are you sure? I can, I don’t mind.” He pulled down his lower eyelid, looking up. The officer held his wrist, pulling it down as she got up to open the door.  
“No need.” She let go to open the door, motioning for him to exit. “Have an nice day.”  
Confused, Tom left the room, surprised at how quickly time had passed. His flight was leaving in half an hour, leaving him about ten minutes to get to the gate and grab some donuts. Tord floated behind him, not minding being forgotten.

Tom sat down, groaning at the soreness in his legs. He had gone and gotten donuts, despite the long and tiring trip around the airport. Tord hovered beside him, watching as people rushed around the pair. The ghost stared at the box of pastries, jaw clenched like he was solving a hard math problem. Tom caught him staring and held back a laugh.  
“You miss eating?” Tord glared at him with empty eyes and turned away. Luckily for Tom, no one ws sitting near them. Pulling his suitcase closer, he shifted in his seat and glanced at the clock, stuffing a donut into his mouth. He talked with the donut still in his mouth, a few crumbs falling into his lap. “The plane will be here in a couple minutes.”  
Tom watched as others began to pick up their belongings, starting to do so himself. He looked to his side, surprised that the ghost was gone. Shrugging, he got up and shoved the last donut in his mouth, smiling at the sugary taste. People moved around him, kids wandering around their parents as the plane arrived.

 

Tom sat down in his seat, instantly wishing he had gotten first class. He looked beside him to see no one, and glancing behind him to see that no one was looking, he scooted over into the window seat. Rest his chin in his hands, he sleepily watched as the plane rumble on the ground, the engines revving up.  
A presence appeared beside him. Tom turned to see Tord floating in the chair he had been sitting in, watching him. Wary of the people around him, he whispered quietly to him.  
“Where did you go?” Tom’s black eyes showed no expression as he talked under his breath. “I was looking for you.”  
The ghost shrugged, swaying to the side as the plane moved into turbulence. Tom sighed and shifted in his seat, looking out the window. The view of the overcast sky shook as the plane tumbled forward, bumping him in his seat. Trying not to barf, Tom held his hand over his mouth as the seat rumbled back and forth. Tord’s ghostly figure shook back and forth, as he was being jostled violently as well. Tom sighed, cringing at the taste of vomit.  
The plane reached air, steadying as its passengers hurled into little paper bags. He tried to ignore the putrid smell that hung in his cabin, making him gag impulsively. Tord seemed to shudder in Tom’s peripheral view, the both of them out of order as the vehicle took flight. Clenching his teeth, Tom willed himself to calm down, closing his eyes while he cursed under his breath.

Hours later, the plane was gliding above clouds as flight attendants swayed across the floor, wielding their trays of food and snacks. Tom hummed a tune in his head, having lost his iPod to his mess of luggage. Tord had disappeared off somewhere, leaving Tom alone with his thoughts. Tom’s eyes wandered around the rest of the cabin, watching as parents kept children in line as other adults slept or watched the TV, sleepily browsing through the assorted channels.  
Turning to the window, he held his chin in his hands as fluffy clouds passed by.

Not realizing he had fallen asleep, Tom snapped awake, surprised to see that Tord had reappeared in the seat beside him, watching him with dim eyes. Blinking, he shrugged off his slumber and sat upright. The clouds beyond the glass were red with sunset, spilling across the sky like ink. Tom checked to see that nobody was watching, he leaned in closer to the ghost, whispering under his breath.  
“Stop disappearing like that.” He clenched his teeth, discovering how cold it had gotten. “It’s creepy.”  
Tord rolled his faint eyes and crossed his arms, giving the man a look.  
Tom sighed. Reaching for a blanket placed in the pocket of the seat in front of him, he shivered under his clothes, despite the warm fabric covering him.  
Huddled up in his seat uncomfortably due to his seat belt, he struggled to warm up, as if he were freezing from the inside.  
The idea gave him even more chills, feeling like he was in a snowstorm naked. Tord watched as Tom shoved the blanket off, loosening his belt by a bit.  
“I give up!” The man cried, gripping the armrests tightly. “I’m cold, and nothing’s helping! Argh!”  
The ghost floated towards the window, sticking a transparent arm through the glass. Tom realized he had never been looking at him, just looking at the sunset. Huffing, he leaned forward, awkwardly cutting through the bottom half of Tord as he tapped the screen. Popping on the headphones, he watched a lame sitcom.  
Tord floated past, disappearing from view as he drifted through the window. Tom watched from the corner of his eyes as Tord looked downward at the clouds, speeding as fast as the plane to stay near Tom. He shook his head, averting his eyes away from the ghost, trying his best to focus on the TV show. Apparently bored, Tord drifted back into the plane, an elated look on his face.  
Silence settled between them as Tom shifted his headphones, trying to cover his ears as the show went on. After a while, he stopped paying attention and reached for his blanket, hoping to warm up. Slipping off his shoes, he snuggled deeper into the blanket, tucking his feet under the chair. Tord hovered away, his head turning as people rushed around and through him. Tom shrugged in the blanket, feeling drowsy as headphones fell a bit from his ears. Too sleepy to put them back on, he turned the volume up to max so that it blasted through the headphones. Listening to it like white noise, Tom fell into sleep slowly, the noise of the plane and chatter in the cabin fading away as he fell into a dream.


	7. Chapter 7

The screen flickered before him as a projector whirled in the background. Tom looked around to see the theater empty except for one other person.  
Tord.  
He was himself, no ghostly figure about him as he stared at the blank screen, which was flickering like a 50’s movie. Tom sat up quickly, turning to face the other man. Tord’s red eyes remained on the screen as Tom jumped up the chairs, his pupils catching white. Tom’s footsteps echoed loudly as he stood in front of Tord, who was still looking at the screen behind Tom.  
“Move.” Tord flung a hand toward the other man, eyes half closed. Tom seethed, struggling to keep his anger inside of him.  
“What the hell?!” He shook Tord’s shoulders, his black eyes bore into him. “You, you-”  
Tord slapped Tom across the face, a blunt look on his face. “Calm down. Whatever you’re going to say isn’t important.”  
Closing his eyes, he breathed in slowly. As his heartbeat slowed, Tom opened his eyes to look at Tord.  
“Why?” He now sat on the chair next to Tord, holding his chin in his hands. “Why do you haunt me?”  
Tord quieted. He let out a long breath before speaking again. “I don’t know.”  
He looked at the devilish man, gaping as the theater flickered from light to dark. “What?”  
“I’m not Tord. I’m how you imagine him. This is a dream, Tom.” He smiled warmly, sarcasm on every feature of his face. “I’m surprised that I’m not dead.”  
Tom looked at him with confusion, watching as Tord poked the flesh of his arm. There was nothing ghostly about him. In fact, he was more human than he ever was. Tom reached out to touch the skin himself, shocked at himself. Tord grinned and stood up, pulling Tom up as well.  
“You don’t think I’m really dead, do you?” HIs red eyes gleamed in the light of the screen, sending that cold feeling back into Tom.  
“What?” He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Of course you’re dead!”  
Tord pointed to his arm. “Then why am I human?”  
“It’s- it’s because- I just-” Tom stumbled back, falling into the chair in the row below him. Bent at an acute angle, he breathed in deeply, watching Tord approach him. His vision blurred as the man leaned over him.  
Tord’s breath smelled of icemint and pepper, just as always. Tom shut his eyes, the humiliation too much to bear.  
“You still love me.”

Ghostly eyes were the first things Tom saw as he woke up. The screen beyond Tord showed that there were 30 minutes left to the plane trip, meaning Tom had only slept for forty minutes.  
Inhaling deeply, he sat upright, the blanket falling from his shoulders, making him shiver. Tord watched him with knowing eyes, as if he could guess what Tom had been dreaming about. Realizing he still had the headphones on, he pulled them off and turned of the TV show. The buzz of the cabin rose as the flight attendants brought out the snack cart.  
A flight attendant handed the passenger in front of Tom a bag of peanuts, smiling warmly as she thanked her. She pushed the cart down the aisle, stopping by Tom’s seat. Her name tag read Maryanne, a nice name for an pretty woman.  
Tom pointed at the first thing he saw, spicy Doritos. “That, please?”  
She laughed. “If you say so.”  
Handing him the bag of chips, she smirked, letting their fingers brush. A swoosh of air blew past Tom, Tord moving positions. Tom blinked, ignoring the ghost beside him.  
“Thank you, ma’am.” He held the bag in his left hand, grinning.  
“I’m much too young for ma’am.” She started pushing the cart forward once again. “But have a lovely day.”  
Too flustered to look at her anymore, Tom nodded, looking at the window. Tord hovered angrily, almost vibrating as Tom opened the bag of chips. Tom leaned back in his chair, glad that the seat behind him was empty. Tord glared at him, his red eyes suddenly like fire. Feeling a shiver approaching, Tom turned to the ghost.  
“What?” He kept his voice to a loud whisper. “I can’t flirt because you’re dead. It’s not like she’s gonna kill me.”  
Tord floated lower, as if he were calming down. Tom suppressed a smile and popped in the first chip. Burning sensations hit his mouth immediately. He was about to whimper when a thought crossed his mind.  
This is almost like cutting.  
He popped in another chip, starting to like the feeling. Tord turned and watched with mild surprise, still a little angry about the attendant. Tom shrugged, eating a third chip.

Clouds turned to bright sunlight as the plane approached the airport. Tom sloppily folded the blanket, stuffing it under the seat next to him. The announcer overhead beeped, the monotone voice within warning the passengers that it was almost time to leave. Loosening his seat belt, Tom sat up completely straight. Tord shifted beside him, though Tom’s arm still went straight through him to check the time on the screen. It read 11:00 am local time, and despite his tiredness from being up so long, Tom awakened properly. He retired the laces of his shoes, watching Tord from the corner of his eye. The ghost crossed his arms and disappeared from view. Sighing, Tom straightened and prepared himself for turbulence. The fluffy clouds rose as the plane lowered, cutting through the condensed water vapor. He breathed in and out deeply, watching as the airport neared. His seat started shaking, the plane rumbling while the airport came into full view.  
Passengers began to gather their belongings as the plane tumbled on, slowing to a quiet stop on the runway. Tom sat up to hear a crunch from under him, reaching to find the empty bag of chips. He sighed to see that here were only crumbs, making his stomach rumble. The burning sensations had been enough to keep him busy for that last half hour. Tom watched as the attendants collected trays and trash, smiles painted on their faces. A shiver went down his back again, making him want to cover himself in his blanket again. Tord appeared from beside him, arms still crossed. Tom glared, rolling his eyes.  
“Shut up.” He stood up, reaching up to get his suitcase. The ghost wavered beside him, looking on as Tom shut the overhead compartment. “You’re not being very nice.”  
Tord gave him a look, almost transparent in the sudden light of the cabin. Tom waved a hand at him, as if he was ushering him away. “I know. But do it anyway.”  
Hoping no one was looking at him, he straightened the blanket. An attendant took his tray from around him, giving him a painted smile. He shot one back at her, clutching his blanket with one hand. Tord shook his head from the corner of Tom’s eye, almost disappearing in the bright light.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 more chapters people!

Tom sipped his coffee, wincing at his exhaustion. The white noise of the cafe was soft, fading away to background. Tord hovered from across the table. He watched the other pick at his waffles with mild interest. Tom dropped the fork at last, sighing in defeat.  
“I’m not hungry.” He stared at the plate of syrupy breakfast, despite it being afternoon. “Why am I not hungry?”  
His chair scooted back a bit in his chair as he sat up straight, frustrated. “I haven’t eaten in 8 hours! Why am I not hungry?”  
Tom angrily stomped his foot under the table, his plate rattling. Tord watched with vague interest, a wispy smile on his face. Another shiver ran down his back, making Tom shake as he fumbled for the check. The cold was overwhelming, his hand shaking while he signed the check. A waiter came by and took it, pressing it against the cloth of his uniform. Tom returned his smile, hoping it didn’t look fake.  
Getting out of his seat, he walked towards the bathroom, relying on his vague norwegian knowledge to identify the right bathroom. Pushing through the Menn door, he walked over to the sink, washing his hands. Tord drifted behind him, silently observing. The growing freeze inside Tom grew stronger. He itched to do something, but had no idea what. Confusion clouding his mind, he dried his hands messily, not caring that they were still damp as he threw away the paper towel. He patted his palms on his jeans, hoping they wouldn’t make a stain. Knowing Tord was following him, he walked out of the cafe, hands in his pockets. The air shifted as he approached his rental car, the unique license plate, Commen, standing out despite its gray appearance. Shivering again for the third time within the hour, he climbed into the sedan. Turning on the engine, he pulled on his seatbelt, watching as Tord floated in from outside.

After endless empty roads and foreign signs, they finally arrived at the large building where Tord had been. Tom had found the address in the letter, surprised at how stupid they were to give away their location.  
Ghost behind him, he shut the door of his rental with his hand, staring at the worn construct in front of him. Tord followed the man up the walkway, faint eyes revealing nothing from within. Shivering from a sudden breeze, Tom ran back to his car to get a hoodie. Luckily, he had one at the top of his suitcase. Slipping on the thick navy blue fabric, he raced back to the front door.  
The tall entrance was daunting, making Tom wish the hoodie would hug him tighter. He pushed it open, both glad and terrified that it was unlocked. Blinking, he stepped into the blackness of the inside, a few rays of sunlight drifting in from behind him. Tord floated in behind him, hesitant as if he hadn’t been here before.  
“Come on,” Tom called from the darkness. “It’s fine. You’ve been here before.”

Footsteps echoed through the long corridor as their pair ventured on. The empty house spread out from below their feet, all signs of the outside world lost quickly. Tom smiled as Tom floated closer, shadows creeping in from the walls. The air shifted around the ghost, making Tom’s hair rustle a bit. He shivered again, internally and externally. Tom’s smile disappeared, his eyes trying to focus in the darkness.  
“Is that?” He stopped walking, a stray echo leading to silence. “A light?”  
They stood, watching the flame flicker, flashing like fireworks in the blackness. Tom rubbed his eyes, unsure of himself. They had been walking without light for so long, he had almost forgotten what light looked like.  
Tord hovered forward, a hand creeping upward to his face. He pressed it onto his temple, not believing himself either. As his hand lowered, a smile crept into his face.  
Tom ran forward, his feet falling like thunder. Tord following, he tore over to the light, squinting to see what it was.  
After half a minute of running, his eyes cleared and he found himself staring at a single candle. Wax pooling at the bottom, the flame flickered, dancing almost. He blinked, glancing around to see if someone left it. There was so much wax that it couldn’t have been recent. Orange light dimmed as a breeze blew by, sending another chill down Tom’s back. He watched as the light dissolved, leaving him in darkness again. A hand intuitively reached out to touch the wax, burned fresh like firewood. Tord floated through him, turning to stare at the man. His empty eyes bore into Tom’s black.  
Tom observed in disbelief, hoping the candle would somehow light itself up again. Tord shooked his head, floating closer to Tom. He lifted a transparent hand to his shoulder, silently wishing he was alive. The man looked up at him with solid eyes, unwavering and unblinking. Ignoring the shiver resonating on his spine, Tom began to walk forward, letting his finger dip into the wax. The liquid burned his skin, silencing any other feeling in his body. His shoes squeaked a bit on the floor, the pitch echoing through the hallway. Tord followed, brows furrowed. A stray beam of sunlight wafted in, visible in the thick dusty air. The light shimmered on Tord’s surface, making Tom look behind him. He squinted, his eyes unadjusted to the light source.  
“Stop making a show,” He muttered. “We’ve got secrets to find.”

Endless hallways passed and darkness stayed. The pair ventured, Tom stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as it got colder. The shiver were now from the cold, which made Tom happy. Tord trailed without complaint, his misty presence accompanying to Tom. They turned right after right and left after left, lost to the relentless hallways.  
Rubbing his hands together, he walked on. A corner approached, Tom subconsciously turning to continue.  
A large room stood before them, ceiling towering with an unlit chandelier. Tom took his time to get to the center of the room, eyes on an large glass wall. The clear substance shined impossibly, as if it were new. He ambled over, hand rising to touch the glass. It streaked under his fingertip, a small squeak erupting from under his skin.  
He pivoted on his heel, turning to Tord. “Do you know what this is?”  
Tord smiled softly, floating closer. His head didn’t move, making Tom stomp his foot as he marched closer. The ghost drifted back, eyes scrunching as Tom moved closer.  
“What the hell are you hiding?” He seethed, fists clenching. “You piece of dead shit.”  
Riled up, Tom threw a punch at the wall, not caring that both the glass and his hand cracked. Ignoring the dull pain, he looked around. Eyes adjusted, he noticed the door looming from the corner. He strolled over, wishing that Tord could tell him what this place was. Hand on the doorknob, he glanced back at Tord. Downing his second thoughts, he opened the door.  
The room beyond the window was empty. Scattered sheets of papers lay on the floor, the only contrasting color in sight. Tom stepped in completely, wandering toward the other side of the pane. It was solid, bluntly black from his view. Turning away, he rambled toward the mess of papers, eyes focusing slowly. Squatting down, he picked up a single sheet, moving his thumb to read the date.  
Tord hovered beside him, steady eyes beaming down on Tom. The man shook off the stare, reading the paper.  
He gasped through his teeth, not daring to breathe too loudly. “This is a letter.”  
Tord looked away, letting the air pull him away from Tom. “It’s one of your letters.”  
“These are all yours.” Tom stood up, grabbing another paper as he rose. “Why didn’t you send these?”  
The ghost showed no answer, a blank look inhabiting his face. Tom took a step back, his eyes clouding as they scanned the words. He dropped the sheet under the one he was reading, too shaky to start another. The words hung like dried glue in his mind, intoxicating his thoughts.  
“You,” Tom couldn’t find the words to continue, scared that they would tell too much. The ghost floated towards the window, happy to put distance between him and his old friend.  
Tom blinked, and took a real look around. The walls seemed far too close, trapping them in the chamber. The floor was shiny, impeccably daunting. He grimaced at scratch marks on the walls, streaks of resistance staining the enclosure. His nose breathed in the smoky stench, reeking of tiredness and tobacco. The glass stood solid, both heaven and hell from his spot. He sauntered over to Tord, an hand reaching out for him.  
“I’m sorry.” Was all that came out, bouncing off the walls and breaking the silence. Tom wished he could hold Tord, breath in his spicy scent. “I’m so sorry.”  
The ghost turned to look at Tom, his eyes crying with dry sadness. Despair plagued them both, resting silence falling headfirst. They were stock still, neither wanting to move and ruin the moment.  
Tord smiled after a long moment. The sight was odd to Tom, making him blink. He drifted closer to the glass, mouth moving but no words escaping. The man watched from behind, confusion on his face. Tord’s smiled disappeared, his eyes fading even further as he floated through the black wall.  
Snapping into reality, Tom ran to the door, wishing it wasn’t locked. The knob froze for a moment, before a clicked echoed. He sighed with relief, glad that he wasn’t trapped.  
Now in this point of view, Tom could take in the dim light of the room. He finally saw the screens and interface of the counter, black screens streaked with chandelier light. A pair of keys dangled by the door, bouncing with shine and jingling softly. Tord was up in the chandelier, looking plastic in the glimmer. Tom cupped his hands to shout something, but thought better of it and lower his hands. The ghost was in his own world, hovering back and forth.  
Reaching over to the keyboard, Tom pressed what he could only assume was the power button. The screen flickered on, making him flinch. Checking to make sure Tord was still distracted, he tapped it, watching as it came to life.  
Dozens of files showed up, every single one of them recordings. Selecting the first one he saw, his head snapped up as a larger screen flared. The film played, Tom watching as Tord spent his first day in the bleak room. The man sat alone in the corner, legs crossed. The camera fizzing in the silence. Tom’s eyes were glued to the screen, watching every movement visible.  
Appearing beside him, Tord glared at Tom, eyes burning. Tom riled back, almost scared. The ghost’s eyes snuck to the screen, pale pupils brightening. His lip trembled, as if he were about to cry.  
Tom reached out to hold his hand, surprised to feel that the skin felt solid.  
In fact, he surprised to feel anything at all.  
Not turning to face him, Tord lowered his head, a single tear falling to the floor with a drip. His sigh came out in a little puff, dissolving into air almost instantly.  
“I’m sorry Tom,” His accent was faint, his voice cracking at every syllable. “I’m so sorry.”


	9. Chapter 9

Tom stumbled back. His foot backed into the wall, pain ringing up his leg. Tord was unmoving, unknown to Tom’s sudden reaction. He staggered backwards, gaping at the ghost as he stumbled.  
“You can talk?” He cried, hands shaking. Tord nodded, smiling softly. The ghost turned in the air, sitting on the screen with his legs crossed.  
“Have been able to for a while now.” He rasped, coughing. “Never found a good reason to.”  
Tom blinked, his mind racing. The video continued on in the background, screen flickering as it came to an end. He looked around, ignoring the the glass wall. Tord crossed his legs, hovering in mid air. They stilled, neither moving to ruin the silence. The man was the first to speak, whispering softly.  
“Why hide it?” He squinted as the chandelier dimmed for a moment. “You could have told me.”  
His voice cracked, throwing him into a fit of coughs. “I'm not the only one keeping secrets.”  
Tom bit his lip, his face warming slightly. He tensed his hands, glaring at Tord. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”  
The ghost shrugged, his gray body sloshing in the air for a moment. “Whatever you want.”

They walked back in silence, all attempts of conversation lost. Tord let himself walk, as if talking had inspired him to be more humanlike. Tom kept to himself, lost in his thoughts. He had memorized the path he had taken, glad that he had left sooner.. Taking a guess somewhere along the trail, he was relieved that ghosts couldn’t read minds.  
Sunlight creeped from around a corner, wafting in like a flashlight, reflecting off tiny dust particles. After one last turn, Tom sighed in relief. The door loomed before him, almost glowing in brown contrast. He reached for the knob, pushing it open as he stepped outside.

The hotel roomed smelled new as he unlocked the door, throwing the keys onto a nearby table. making him blink. He turned the corner, happy to see the large entrance door. Approaching it, he looked back, part of him hoping Tord would say something. But disappointingly, the ghost said nothing, returning Tom’s gaze with a icy silence.  
The pair trudged across the empty lot, Tom craning his neck to look up at the setting sun. It glared in his black eyes, making him lower his head, staring at the rental car in front of him. Tord floated forward, passing by him to get to the car faster. Tom held back a sigh, reaching forward to open the door. It didn’t budge, making him grunt as he pulled out the keys from his back pocket.  
The sound of papers falling made his head turn. Dozens of sheets were piled on the floor, seeming have to have fallen out of Tom’s pocket. Clenching the keys in his fist, he bent down to pick them up. After getting them all into his hand, he stood, holding the papers in his hand and the keys by his elbow. He opened the car door, blindly reaching behind him to grab the handle. It opened, Tom quickly threw the letters in before following himself.  
The warm air of the car made Tom realize how cold he had been, blood flowing fast through his body as the air conditioning blew out hot air. He shivered, surprised that it wasn’t from the freeze of his skin.  
Tord grunted from beside him, making him jolt out of his daze. “You might want to drive.”  
Tom rolled his eyes, blushing. “Whatever.”  
Gripping the wheel tightly, he changed gears, driving slowly down the side road. Trees flew by as he surpassed whatever speed limit there was. He let his foot relax on the gas pedal, letting the car rumble forward on it’s own speed. The sun continued on, gradually falling beyond the horizon. He pushed down a bit on the pedal, not letting the car lose speed. The ground was blur, stones and pebbles streaming past like water. Tord shifted from beside him, chair giving off a tiny squeak from under the ghost.  
Turning off to a gas station, he put the car into park and pulled out the keys. Tord crossed his arms, pulling his legs up a bit. The gas station was almost empty, only one other car parked. A woman stood by her sedan, squinting in the darkening sunset as she tried to pay.  
Tom pulled out a credit card, glad that he had thought to bring his wallet. A screen lit up a he tapped in the type of gas he wanted, the pump unlocking to let him attach it to his car. He opened the gas cap. He plugged in the nozzle, watching as the numbers flashed on the screen. Tord watched him from inside of the car, making Tom uncomfortable. The handle clicked, pulling Tom out of his thoughts. He put the nozzle back into its shelf. Pulling his keys out of his pockets, he opened the car and made his way around the car to enter.  
Cold air rushed to meet Tom’s face as he turned on the car. The air quickly warmed as the air conditioning ran on. Tord breathed in loudly, a small sucking sound audible. Tom put in the keys, igniting the engine. Tord let his hands rest on the bottom of the window, gazing out at the twilight sky. Tom snuck a glance at the sky as well, gasping quietly at the beauty. He returned to the road, smiling softly.  
“Hey Tord,” The ghost turned his head to look at the man.  
“What?” Tom laughed maniacally.  
“I think I love you.”

Tom stumbled into the hotel room, sleeping practically pouring from his body. He fell into the bed, wheezing. After lying for a while, he got up and closed the door. Tord floated past him, hovering above a couch. Door shut, Tom sat on the bed. He crossed his legs, slipping his phone out of his pocket.  
He was scrolling through social media when the ghost broke the silence.  
“Tom?” He looked up, meeting Tord’s gaze.  
“What?” The bed creaked as Tom shifted his position.  
“What you said back there,” Tord sat down normally, letting his body touch the chair. Tom’s face reddened, flustered. “No, what were you saying back there?”  
The man lowered his eyes. “Nothing. It meant nothing.”  
The air moved as Tord appeared in front of Tom, face leaning in. His body flickered with color for a moment, both of them blushing. “It didn’t sound like nothing.”  
Tom found himself leaning in as well. “Maybe it wasn’t.”  
Body faint with soft colors, Tord lowered the distance between their faces. The bed creaked from under their weight, the both of them intimately close. “What were you saying, Thomas Ridgewell?”  
“I love you.” Tom breathed, almost feeling Tord’s hand on his own. “And I always have.”  
Tord closed the distance, blinking into reality as their lips connected. Tom didn’t hesitate to return the notion, humming lightly. Tord moved so that he was practically over Tom, almost menacingly. Tom squeezed Tord’s entangled fingers, loving the wispy taste of the man’s lips. They parted, disappointedly to Tom. Tord smiled, licking his lips. His body was almost in full color, gleaming with life. The younger man grinned from under Tord, sucking in a huge breath.  
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.” Tom’s smiled disappeared as he saw Tord’s body. “But why are you in color now.”  
Tord lowered, keeping their faces close. “Because you make me feel alive.”  
They stayed like that, taking in each other. Tord let out a small laugh, his chest rising and falling.  
“I love you too.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. Hope you all liked it. :)

They left the airport smiling, the both of them walking beside each other. Tom tried his best not to stare at Tord, knowing that people would see him and think he was crazy. Tom waited for a bus, checking his pockets for money. Five pounds in his hands, he sat on the bench. Tord giggled beside him, playing with his hair. Tom tried his best to stifle his laughter, grateful that the wind was already jostling his hair.  
Tord whispered in his ear, still giggling. “I love you.”  
Tom glanced up to make sure that no one was looking, muttering under his breath. “Stop saying that.”  
“But I do.” He scooted closer to him, hot breath warming Tom’s cheeks. “I really, really, do.”  
Tom tried his best to not smile, failing. “Well, try not to announce it so much.”  
A boy looked behind him, holding his mother’s hand tightly. His gaze didn’t find Tom, but it came close. Tord silenced, frowning slightly. The bus pulled up, rumbling down the smooth road. It screeched to a stop, making Tom flinch. People boarded and left the crowded bus, those leaving in a rush. He pulled his black sweater tighter around him, rising from the bench to board the vehicle.  
Ignoring the weird look from the driver, he paid his fare and found an empty seat. His stop was an hour away, two stops down the list. He sighed and pulled his iPod out, plugging in headphones. Tord fiddled with his jacket from beside him, leaning in close to listen to the music as well.  
Trees flew by as the bus rumbled on. People left and got on, the scenery changing as Tom’s stop arrived. He got his stuff, awkwardly passing right through Tord while he stood up. Getting off the bus, he shivered in the cold. The bus had been so much warmer, He thought as he pulled his hoodie up. He looked behind him, watching as the bus drove away. The sound of the engine faded as Tord pulled himself back into color. The ghost fell from his float and walked beside Tom, his footsteps silent.  
“Hey,” Tom scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that back there at the bustop.”  
Tord shrugged, his accent returning slowly still. “It’s fine.”  
They walked down the pavement, hands brushing. Tord skin was barely ghostly, slightly tan and warm. He felt real to the touch, and Tom enjoyed the warmth of his skin. They walked closer together, Tom holding Tord’s hand lightly. For the brief moment, Tord was real, completely mortal and no longer dead. He smiled at Tom, squeezing his hand lightly.  
“Hey,” Tom internally cringed as he said the same word again. “I’m really sorry.”  
Tord pulled him closer, holding him into an awkward hug as they continued walking. “Stop apologizing, it’s okay. I didn’t care much anyway.”  
Tom blinked, trying not to whimper. “Not that, not telling you how I felt.”  
Tord let out a long breath as Tom continued. “I should have told you, all those years ago.”  
The air was calm as their house approached, leaving the silence awkward. Tord rubbed his arm, looking at the ground as they climbed up the steps. Tom reached into his pocket for his key, but remembered he had left it in their suitcase. Not wanting to have to pull it out of his luggage, he rang the doorbell, hoping that someone was home. The pair stood, Tom teetering on and off his toes. Footsteps could be heard beyond the door, Edd’s cheerful voice muffled by the wood. The door creaked open, Edd’s smiling face peeping from behind it.  
“Tom!” He threw open the door, grinning like a child. “You’re back?”  
Tord leaned out from behind him, smiling awkwardly. “Hi?” He waved his hand weakly.  
Edd’s eyebrow arched, his mouth open slightly with surprise. “Tord?”

Matt was sitting on the couch when Tom entered the living room, sipping his tea with a warm smile on his face. Edd clapped his hands excitedly, trying to fill the silence. Tord was still upstairs, unpacking. He had grown to be able to physically touch things, mostly Tom’s lips on accord. Edd had said nothing in the time the pair had arrived, swallowing down his confusion to attempt at tranquility.   
Tord appeared from the door, grinning as a drop of water fell from his face to the floor. “I see you paid the water bill.”  
Edd laughed nervously, his face going red. “It was one time.”  
Tom smiled as Tord sat beside him, the norsk chuckling. “One time too many.”  
Tom let his hand brush Tord’s, holding in a fit of laughter. “We’re back, I guess.”  
“Why are you, so real?” Matt blurted, not caring how quiet it got after.  
The ghost avoided his eyes, flickering out of color for a moment. “Because-”  
Tom cut him off, speaking impulsively. His and Tord’s hands got closer together as he jerked forward. “Because he found his spark.”  
Matt leaned forward, a confused look on his face. “What?”  
Tord shrugged, trying not to panic. “I found what makes me feel alive.”  
Edd opened his mouth to speak but closed it when he saw their hands touch. He suppressed a smile, glancing at Matt. The ginger followed his eyes, staring at their interlocked fingers. They held back smiles, Tom’s face going red as he watched.  
The dark brunette grinned, standing up. “Welcome home.”  
Matt gave the two another look before following Edd, staring like a dog. Tom made sure they were out of sight before kissing Tord’s lips, smiling at the familiar contact. Tord chuckled into the kiss, holding the back of Tom’s neck. They pulled away at the sound of Matt’s gasp, a string of saliva connecting them.  
“I knew it,” He whispered, his voice getting louder. “I knew it!”  
Edd laughed from the kitchen. “Called it!”  
The lovers sat, shocked into stillness as they watched their roommates break into an episode of laughter. Tord leaned into Tom, eyes half closed. The younger man couldn’t hold back a grin, snuggling up against the other. They breathed in unison, shoulders rubbing softly. Tom smiled, his skin warming. “This is so much better now.”  
Tord gripped his fingers, stroking them lightly. He kissed Tom on the cheek. “Isn’t it?”  
Tom grinned, patting Tord’s thigh, dangerously closer to his waist. “Yeah.”  
He chuckled, “Whatever you say,” A snicker crawled out of his throat, making Tom shiver.


	11. Update

Hey guys! Sorry to bring this back from the dead.

I'm orphaning this work because I really don't want it to be a representation of my writing (it ain't one of my best pieces) and I really want to move out of this fandom. The Eddsworld fandom is great, really, but I just don't like the show as much anymore. Please don't let this make you like this fic any less, I was surprised at the feedback I got and it was a huge moment for me.

If you're seeing this after I've orphaned it, I'm glad you enjoyed it. And if you didn't, leave a comment. I don't know; have at it.

Wishing you the best,

the author


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